


keep on running, look what you find

by hikaristudio



Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Written Pre-Finale, god forgive me for i am back on my bullshit, now or never kiss, this is like right around that scene when they all have that bbq thing i can't remember specifics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-14 07:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaristudio/pseuds/hikaristudio
Summary: It's the threat of tomorrow that hangs over them as they prepare what is possibly their last meal. There’s too much in her head: relief that it’ll be over soon, fear that they won’t make it, thoughtful of what the future will hold.





	keep on running, look what you find

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1001paperboxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/gifts).

> title comes from bat for lashes 'rest your head.' i see a prompt that mentions kazumi and sawa and i floor it (open google docs immediately)

It's the threat of tomorrow that hangs over them as they prepare what is possibly their last meal. There’s too much in her head: relief that it’ll be over soon, fear that they won’t make it, thoughtful of what the future will hold. She looks at their ragtag band of ex fugitives, watches as Gentoku and Kazumin and Misora stand over the meat and argue about the merits of marinating overnight versus for a few hours. They ate early, and the following courses were more them eating over the grill, putting piping hot pieces in each other’s mouth. They cooked everything they took from a local store; they still put money in the counter despite the city's evacuation. The sizzling of meat and conversation hung in the air, the softness echoing because of the silence that is an empty city.

Sento and Banjou stand aside, bickering over something inconsequential, and her heart swells so much she turns her back to them to stare into the night. Gentoku and Misora are in the middle of an elaborate joke as Kazumin watches in slight confusion but mostly bemusement. 

She doesn’t cry much anymore, but she feels like it in this moment. Nanba foundation made sure that all their operatives weren't weak or prone to emotional outbursts. Everything contained, everything calculated to elicit the preferred response. Nanba foundation wasn't even the worst of their problems, not in a while, but old habits were hard to kick and she could never shake off the years in that orphanage no matter how much she tried. Still, the back of her eyes sting, and her nails digging into her palms to keep her from the edge of breaking down. These people were her family, and it killed her to not do more, join in the fray as another rider. 

She turns back when the worst of it passes, eyes searching for Misora in concern. Vernage had left but it didn't mean much, given how much she took from the girl. Still, she laughs with Gentoku and she steals the utensil in Kazumin’s hand to take over the grill. Kazumi catches her eye as Gentoku and Misora play a game of who can flip better as she does so, brushing the edge of her nose in the universal gesture of ‘it’s fine.’ 

“You’ve been standing at this corner for the last half hour, and Gentoku isn’t cooking,” he holds his palms out. “What’s got you down?” 

“You mean our impending death tomorrow isn’t enough to get you down?” She tries to joke, but the words fall flat out of her mouth and she wishes more than anything to bury herself into her own jacket. 

“Outside of that,” he acquiesces with a tilt of his head, and walks right beside her against the railing. The others barely mind them, but Misora yells something to Banjou who grins and walks towards them.Sento himself has sat down and started fiddling with his belt. 

“I’m worried about tomorrow. I look at us here right now and I think this might be the last time we might get to see each other.” 

“Well, yes,” Kazumi begins, “but if you think of it like that, you’ll only accomplish making yourself feel even more worried than we already do. You’re not the only one cursed with this. All of us know that being here to see tomorrow isn’t a guarantee we will leave out of there alive.”

“And what of Misora and I? You think we’ll sit back and let this go without a fight?”

“You’re not really letting go of anything because you’re forced to stay back,” he says. She rolls her eyes, not the least bit annoyed she couldn’t be a rider when the foundation had deliberately interfered to make it impossible for her to take even a sliver of agency. 

“Because we’re not riders,” she finishes. He nods as she folds and refold her arms, digs her nails into her arms. Of course they’re all worried, she’d be a fool to dismiss the concerns. She is not the only one who has to carry the horrible truth this time, but that makes it all the much worse. She cares for them deeply - the only family she’s ever known. She has always cared for Misora, especially when she knew she’d have to lie to her. Sento, who had accepted her treasonous activities without passing a moral judgement. And Banjou, for having the strongest heart of them all. She is fond of even Gentoku, who she didn’t imagine as an ally from the beginning. She doesn’t begin to ponder on her feelings for Kazumi, knowing that there is something that goes deep into her soul and stirs when he is around. 

Even as he stands beside her, she feels her skin alight with something like anticipation and something that is comfort in his presence. She focuses on her shoes, and thinks of what she might like to do in the future after they finish. Kazumi would probably return to his farm and she would try to be a journalist. Or maybe she’d go into the police, to protect people. The wall brought them together, but what would become of them after? She shudders to think of a world without them nearby. 

“You think I want to think about this?” She turns on her side to face him and she gives him her best ‘I’m afraid of nothing’ smile. “I’d give anything to be able to lie to myself for just a few hours, but I have never once been able to fool myself. The lie fades and you’re just left with the truth.” Kazumi tilts his head up to the sky, heading bobbing slightly. His profile stirs something in her in delight, drinking it in eagerly. If they die tomorrow, she’ll have many memories of him, and of watching the others as she committed their faces to memory. 

“Whoever said ‘the truth will set you free’ was full of shit, huh?” Kazumi says, startles a laugh out of her.

“Yeah, they were.” She says, placing her arm on the railing, hand under her palm to watch him watch the sky unashamedly. 

“What do you want to do after this?” She shrugs one shoulder. 

“It’s always been about survival, I don’t know what to do if I’m not a spy. And between me and you,” she lowers her voice. “I wasn’t the best journalist at times.” Kazumi snorts, bringing his head and therefore his eyes down to where she’s been watching him. She licks at the corner of her mouth as he does so, thinking she imagined the way his eyes darkened. 

“That’s good,” he says as she cocks an eyebrow. “You might not be a journalist but you don’t need many skills to be a farmer.” 

“A farmer,” she rolls the word on her tongue. “That would be nice. More peaceful than anything I’ve ever done.” They slip into an oddly hypnotic trance, where she doesn’t dare to move her sight from his eyes and his gaze searches her face like he’s also trying to commit her to memory like she did for him. 

She is tired of fear and leans forward, pulls him by his shirt to her face where her mouth is open, willing. He slots above her mouth easily, meets her halfway, letting her set the place as her tongue runs across his.She explores, because he is not like the other man she had seduced once long ago. He lets her lead but he takes exactly what she has given and tries to return it. It feels like she’s adrift at sea, and when he opens his mouth further, it’s to pull her closer into him. He smells exactly like the meat he’d been grilling, and a faint smell of wood. Her hand wraps around his neck, the end strands of his hair that feel far more silkier than they should, while her other hand holds his shirt (and him) close to her. The coat she has slipped on is used to hold her to him, and it feels unbearably hot when Kazumi’s hand is right on her back. If they didn’t have an audience, she knows she would abandon herself to pleasure but she keeps a leash on her instincts. She doesn’t want to let him go, but she has to; she tries to slow them down, to pull away but he makes the languid move feel like it was natural and that they would stay like this for a few minutes. She lets go of his shirt and when they pull, she is dimly aware of the others who are gawking at them while Misora lets out a low whistle. She studiously ignores them and focuses on Kazumi, who looks dazed and surprised, but not unhappy at the turn of the events. She doesn’t speak but instead focuses on brushing part of his hair from his forehead. 

“What's that for?” He says when he gains his senses. If she feels dazed from the kiss, she can only imagine what he feels.

“For tomorrow, for luck,” she replies, “but also because I really wanted to do that.” She turns back to the group, raising an eyebrow in defiance. They simply grin at her as she tries to calm down the jackhammering of her heart. 

“I’m coming back alive,” he resolves, and she smiles. “We’re not leaving it at this.” 

“Is that a promise? Because I’ll have you know I take my promises very seriously, and I’ll hold you to it.” He’s begun walking away, crossing in front of her way as she remains at the rail. 

“It is,” he says, slipping her hand into his and tugs her behind as they walk back towards the others.


End file.
